


More than just Laughter

by Shahdar



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Crying, Dark Brotherhood - Freeform, Dawnstar - Freeform, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Gender-neutral Reader, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, Kissing, One Shot, POV First Person, Post-Canon, Prompt Fic, Sleep Deprivation, also yay my first skyrim fic???, cicero can't sleep, okay not really that angsty, this was self indulgent because i love him and feel shitty so hey, wrote this in an hour i should be doing work hh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-22 18:33:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17667905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shahdar/pseuds/Shahdar
Summary: Cicero can't sleep, and doesn't know how to deal with the laughter in his head. You, the Listener, are thankfully there to help him.





	More than just Laughter

**Author's Note:**

> Hello sorry this is just a self-indulgent fic I needed to get out. Do excuse me if anything like the sanctuary's architecture is off because I haven't played in awhile, and I also haven't written in a while either! I've definitely not written in first-person for a heck of a while. But enjoy, and thanks in advance for reading! Comments/feedback are definitely very welcome <3
> 
> Prompt: "How long has it been since you've slept?"  
> Also a little inspired by Tumblr user baileybooradly's headcannon that Cicero doesn't like sleeping because he's had enough silence for a lifetime.

_Crash!_

You wake to a start, sitting upright from your bed, unsure what woke you from your slumber. Nothing around you is amiss; your dark, dim-lit quarters are still and undisturbed.

“By Sithis, Cicero, it’s me Nazir!”

Your head turns to the door, and you can hear the faint voice of your fellow assassin, sounding aggravated and surprised. Brow creasing, you push yourself out of bed, rubbing your eyes as you leave the room to see what was the matter.

Upon reaching the eating area, you see Nazir bending over the table, struggling to hold down Cicero.

“Cicero!” you say in alarm, more inadvertently than anything, and rush over to the redguard, the last of your grogginess dissipating once the situation starts to dawn on you. Nazir is firmly restraining Cicero’s left hand, which is gripped around the jester’s ebony blade, while Nazir also pushes down on the man’s torso with his free arm. The jester was still struggling and muttering, and it was only when you tried to make out what he was saying did you understand what was going on.

“You are _intruders_! Here to desecrate the Night Mother’s tomb. Cicero will not allow it, he WILL NOT ALLOW IT!!” Cicero was fluctuating between aggressively muttering through gritted teeth and desperate cries. The gaze in the mad jester’s eyes was distant. It was almost as if you could see the laughter egging him on, taking over his mind.

“Cicero, Cicero stop,” you started, voice firm but not angry. You needed to reach him, not scold him. The man had enough issues, and you knew you had to be careful with what and how you said things when it came to helping him through his episodes. You were on Nazir’s right, and brought your hand to gently rest on his writhing wrist, feeling the surprise and confusion in how his hand’s movements stopped momentarily. Then your hand moved up to where his fingers gripped the blade, prying them away as gently as you possibly could. As you did this, your left hand travelled to hold the side of the jester’s face, making him pull his agitated eyes away from Nazir to meet yours. “Cicero, listen to me. Mother is alright. There are no intruders. I am the Listener, you are in the Dawnstar Sanctuary, you are safe, and you don’t have to listen to the laughter anymore. You’re not alone, we are your family, you don’t have to worry anymore.”

Cicero didn’t look away from you, and though he kept his resistance up at first, your words reached through the haze to him eventually, and he stopped kicking at Nazir and let go of his knife. Gingerly, the redguard beside you took his weight off the smaller man, though you could sense he was still a little uneasy. You would speak with him afterwards to make sure he was alright, but you knew Nazir could handle himself. For now, you had a Keeper on your hands.

Helping Cicero up, your gaze softened as he stood, glad you could see Cicero in his eyes and not, well, the mad jester. But now that you were looking at him properly, you noticed the dark shadows under his eyes, his paler than usual complexion, and the fatigue in his expression. “Cicero… how long has it been since you last slept?” you asked softly. Your hand was still on his cheek, and you brushed away a few strands of ginger hair that had strayed out of place in the struggle. His jester’s hat was still on the table behind him. Cicero looked at you sadly, before casting his eyes downwards. “Cicero never sleeps. Can’t sleep. Must watch mother. Cannot ever let her be vulnerable.”

You shake your head, making him look back up at you. “No, Cicero, dear, you need to sleep. I know those are excuses. What’s keeping you up?” Your tone is gentle, wary of pushing too much, but you need to know, or you won’t be able to help him.

The man in front of you sighs, knowing nothing gets past you, looking down again as if mentally preparing himself on how to convey his worries when suddenly, you feel the man shake. He sniffs, and then starts to lower himself shakily down on the bench behind him. Your expression creases in confusion as you watch him sit down, following his gaze to where a broken bowl laid on the ground, among its spilt soupy contents. When you looked back at Cicero, tears were threatening to overflow in his eyes as he looked in horror at the broken bowl. “Cicero… did it again… didn’t he? He’s hurt another Brother…” He said in-between sniffs, his voice small as he seemed to realise what he’d just done in his daze. His eyes travel slowly to his fallen blade as he continues. “If… if the Listener didn’t stop Cicero… he would have broken the fifth tenet… Cicero-”

“Shhh… Cicero, love, look at me,” you say, a hand on his shoulder now. “That wasn’t you, it was the laughter. And anyway, you underestimate Nazir, he wouldn’t let you kill him,” at an attempt to lighten the mood, you smile slightly. The jester’s expression remains unchanging, still looking up at you with that hurt expression, his tears still ready to fall any minute. It was painful to see him like this, but you weren’t about to just let him suffer with the voices in his head alone. “Come on, we’ll go for a walk, and you can tell me what’s been bothering you. Sound good?” You extend a hand towards Cicero, and after a moment, his gloved hand finds yours, letting you pull him up. You turn to leave the eating quarters, giving Nazir a small smile as you pass him, thankful for his understanding. Cicero isn’t ready to say anything, but his hand grips onto yours tightly, as if he’s afraid he’ll lose you, or maybe himself, if he lets go.

“Cicero is so very, very sorry,” you hear him say in an incredibly small, pained voice, before you’ve even left the sanctuary. You’re a little surprised, but then again, he was never very good at staying quiet. You’re glad that he’s speaking, though. You give his gloved hand a little squeeze, as if to say it’s okay, and he continues. “Cicero cannot sleep, because it is so quiet at night. But then… the laughter… it comes back, comes back and tells poor Cicero that he’s all alone in the sanctuary, and that he’s failed mother because he could never hear her. Then Cicero went out to see her, but instead he thinks he’s seen an intruder! In the sanctuary! Here to hurt Mother!” As he continues, his pitch and volume increases slightly, and you can feel him getting more agitated, but you’re glad when you sense him calm himself down as he breathes. “But that was… that’s not true.” By now, the two of you have made it just outside the sanctuary, and the cool night breeze brushes by you as the last few hours of moonlight wash over the both of you. It was probably early morning, and from the state of Cicero, you would guess he hadn’t managed to sleep all night, and who knows how many nights prior. Babette was out feeding, and Nazir was always one to wake up way too early. You turn your body to face your Keeper, and the man brings his amber eyes up to meet yours. 

“The laughter is wrong. We do have a Listener now, and Mother is safe.” You nod, smiling. Your hands find his, and you hold them as you speak. “Yes, Cicero. From now onwards, I want you to tell me if anything’s bothering you, alright? Let us help you, even if it’s 3am on a Sundas night. And don’t doubt yourself, alright? You’ve done so much for the Brotherhood, and Mother is proud of you. _I’m_ proud of you, and you should be too. I love you, alright?” Cicero gives you the smallest nod ever, and he looks overwhelmed by your intent gaze and strong words, that he probably really needed to hear. He almost doesn’t register you leaning in to kiss him on the lips, and you can feel that the tears are streaming down his cheeks now.

“Thank you, Listener…” The man said, his voice cracking as he cried against you, letting you wrap your arms around him and hold him in a protective, steady hug. “Cicero lives to serve.”


End file.
